I don’t usually get too hung up on labels, but last week a piece by Stuart Heritage that appeared on the Guardian runners blog had me pondering.
Stuart hates running. He does it so that he can eat cake. And for this reason, he feels that calling himself a ‘runner’ is an undeserved promotion. He’s a jogger.
But not only is he a jogger, if you run for any reason other than a pure love of running, if you run so you don’t have to wear elasticated trousers, then according to Stuart you need to face the truth: you too are a jogger.
My first reaction was outrage. I like cake! I’ve never ‘vaulted across the surface of the earth with the wind in my hair’. But I’m a runner, dammit!
Then I showed the post to my husband, a reluctant runner of 15 years. And found him nodding vigorously in agreement. With Stuart, not me.
Turns out that although he now hates running less than he used to, he still only does it because it’s easy and convenient. If he could keep fit playing Forza on the Xbox, he’d hang up his trainers for good with never a backwards glance.
So do we really need to worry about names? After all, my first running club was Sandhurst Joggers. I’ve run many a race with the ‘J’ word plastered across my boobs without a hint of embarrassment.
Perhaps it shouldn’t matter we call ourselves. But I think it does.
When I first started running, more than 20 years ago, it was a macho, male-dominated sport. I love how inclusive and welcoming it’s become since those days. Initiatives like Race for Life and parkrun have encouraged more and more people to get into running, whatever their age, gender or fitness. Now, there’s more women than men in my club, and everyone’s cheered and encouraged, whether they can do a mile in 6 minutes, or 13.
They all work hard. They’re all looking to improve and get better. They’re all runners.
If we start calling people ‘joggers’ instead of ‘runners’ there’s a danger they’ll feel different. Lesser, somehow. That what they’re doing isn’t worth celebrating, and they shouldn’t feel proud. And that would be a huge step backwards for our sport.
And there’s already a word to separate the recreational runner from the serious contender: it’s ‘athlete’. Which is why you’ll never see me wearing a club vest with the letters ‘AC’ on it.
To those who run but hate it, I would say that maybe you should try something different – change where you run, how you run, or who you run with – but my husband’s shaking his head and telling me that I just don’t understand.
So I’ll finish by saying that you can call yourself what you like, but if you run, whatever your reason and whatever your speed, in my mind you’re a runner.
Or in the words of John ‘the Penguin’ Bingham:
I AM A RUNNER because I run. Not because I run fast. Not because I run far.
I AM A RUNNER because I say I am. And no one can tell me I’m not.
Photo by Nathan McDine on Unsplash